Alaska
by Klyntaliah
Summary: Clint convinces Natasha to take some downtime on a mission and do something fun. 'Fun' in this case means 'life-threatening.' Fluffy oneshot. Could be seen as romantic or platonic Clintasha. "I don't know how you talked me into this, Barton, it's so stupid. And just for the record, when this is over, I'm going to kill you."


**My sister and I co-wrote this a while back (I wrote Natasha, she wrote Clint). I stuck it in a folder and forgot to post it until now. Enjoy! :)**

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"I don't know how you talked me into this, Barton, it's so stupid. And just for the record, when this is over, I'm going to kill you."

"Listen, this is probably the most fun we'll have on a mission for a long time, Nat," Clint said gleefully. "It's not every day you get sent to Southern Alaska, home of the longest zip line in America."

"Thanks goodness for that," Natasha commented dryly. She cast her eyes over the frozen landscape as they trudged up the steep hill towards the starting point. It was hushed and peaceful, and a cold breeze swept a few falling snowflakes towards Natasha's face, where they clung to her eyelashes. She blinked them away. "You do realize the only reason I agreed to this was so we can look for the target's hideout from high up, right?" she added pointedly.

"I know, I know," Clint said, his eyes glinting eagerly. "But based on the intel from Shield, there's a small chance they're still in the vicinity. So just enjoy yourself and keep your eyes open while you're at it."

"Yeah, enjoy myself." Natasha didn't sound convinced.

They reached the top of the hill and headed towards the starting point. When the crest of the hill came into sight and the breathtaking view was revealed, Natasha stopped.

"Wow… we're really high up," she observed. She wasn't afraid of heights specifically. She just didn't like the idea of being so high up without the solid walls of an aircraft, and a control panel at her disposal so her progress could be directed. Or at least a parachute.

"Is it too late to back out?" she asked nervously.

Clint glanced at her, noting her apprehension. "It's going to be fine," he assured her. "I've heard the view is amazing." He peered through the glass of the platform from which the zip lines took off as they finally reached their destination. Gray mist rolled over the tops of the snow-coated trees as large flakes drifted lazily from the clouds. Then he looked back down at his partner, who was standing with her arms crossed and her eyebrows arched suspiciously.

"I know it looks pretty steep," he said. "But it's perfectly safe, especially compared to what we get ourselves into on a regular basis."

Natasha hesitated, acknowledging the logic in his words. "Okay," she said finally. "But afterwards, I'm going to kill you. And then we're going to go back to the lodge and get hot chocolate."

"Zip line, get killed, hot chocolate," he said "Sounds like a plan."

"Hey, are you two gonna stare out the window all day or what?" the attendant asked. He looked on impatiently as the pair turned towards him. The young man was unaware that beneath their coats were concealed eighteen different weapons with the ability to be used to kill him with varying degrees of discomfort.

"We're ready," Clint said, starting forward.

Natasha followed hesitantly, and soon, both of them were being strapped into their seats by the bored assistant.

"How long is this thing again?" Natasha muttered to Clint as the assistant returned to the controls.

"About a minute and a half," he replied. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the barrier in front of them was lowered and they were released, plummeting from the platform. Cold air blew through Clint's hair, and the snowflakes made his eyes burn, but he surveyed the view with exhilaration.

"Isn't this amazing?" he shouted to Natasha over the sound of rushing air and the whir of the cables.

Natasha caught her breath as the ground disappeared from under them. She gripped the ropes tightly as she gazed at the snowy evergreen trees and mountains and the shimmery length of the Icy Strait that stretched out in front of them. She tried to answer but her voice didn't seem to be working. She glanced over at Clint, who appeared to be having the time of his life.

His arms were outstretched and his legs were swinging back and forth in an almost childlike bliss. A grin was spread across his face as they sped over the snow-capped trees at a sickening speed.

Their pace sped up along with Natasha's heartbeat, and the wind caught the fur-lined hood of her parka and flicked it off her head. Her hair streamed out behind her and whipped in the wind, making her feel even more out of control. Natasha squeezed her eyes shut. _Don't think about the cable breaking._

"This is amazing!" Clint yelled. "Hey, Nat, do you see any hideout stuff going on, cause I don't." He looked over at Natasha, whose eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

 _Yeah she probably hasn't seen much, let alone three assassin clowns hiding in caves half a mile away,_ Clint thought. He noticed the whirring sound slowing, and the end of the ride came into view.

Natasha felt the zip line slowing down, and she tentatively opened an eye. They were less than ten feet from the ground and descending quickly. Gradually, the ride came to a complete stop, and Natasha relaxed to see the ground so close again.

An attendant stepped up and unstrapped her from the seat. Instantly, Natasha stood up and headed for the lodge, feeling her heartrate finally start to return to normal. She heard Clint jogging through the snow to catch up to her.

"Ok, you've got to admit that was pretty fun," he said breathlessly, falling into stride next to her. "At least I hope you will, or I'll have to accept my dire fate."

"I hate you," Natasha said calmly. "That was one of the stupidest things I've ever done. I just risked my life for a minute and a half of sitting on the icy joyride of death. Not to mention wasting a minute and a half of time we should have been using to track those assassins. If something had gone wrong and one of us had died, Fury would not have been happy." She peered at Clint out of the corner of her eye. "But yeah. That was pretty fun."

Clint's mouth twitched into a grin as they approached a log cabin, smoke curling from the stone chimney. "See, now we can get those cups of hot chocolate and you can drown all your memories from the icy death trip in a soothing, warm, foamy mug—"

His words were cut off suddenly as a fluffy snowball exploded in his face. Natasha grinned mischievously up at him, her eyes twinkling. "Killing you would make too much paperwork. So I improvised," he explained impishly.

Scooping his arms into the frigid white powder, he packed it quickly together and flung it towards Natasha. While his aim was perfect, her dodging skills were just as accurate, and she darted to the side as the snowball sailed past her, exploding against a tree behind her. Smirking, she knelt to form another snowball to hurl at her partner. But as she stood up, a blanket of snow fell on top of her from the branches above her where Clint's snowball had released a small avalanche. She looked up to see him laughing gleefully at the look of surprise on her face.

"You are so done for!" Natasha vowed, shaking the snow from her hair. Another snowball hit Clint in the chest, and the snowball fight began in earnest.

The two agents ran around and launched snow at one another, their shouts and laughter echoing off the icy mountains. Both of them became covered in the frosty powder, but they disregarded the cold as they dodged, ducked, and pitched snowballs.

Somehow, ten minutes later, they found themselves lying in the snow, breathless from the exertion and laughing themselves hoarse. The ground around them was sprinkled with footprints, and parts of the snow were pressed down where they had been rolling around.

Natasha propped herself up and grinned down at Clint, her cheeks flushed from the cold.

"We need to get a move-on," she panted. "Those assassins aren't going to catch themselves." She stood up and pulled Clint to his feet, brushing snow off his coat.

Clint brushed a snowy strand of hair from her eyes then dropped his arm across her shoulders as they trudged through the snow. "That hot chocolate isn't going to drink itself either," he pointed out.

Natasha smiled. "How 'bout we leave, like, the past half hour off the mission report?" she suggested.

Clint laughed as they walked arm-in-arm towards the cabin, surrounded by gently falling snow.


End file.
